


Clarity

by miranda_wave (miranda_askher)



Series: Colors [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, colorless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 21:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miranda_askher/pseuds/miranda_wave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's life feels like an afterthought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarity

Everything has faded since Clara left.

_Since I told Clara to leave,_ she reminds herself, bitterly.

Harry swirls her drink, downs the vodka in one swallow. Hardly feels the burn anymore. She stares at the bottle behind the bar, thinks about another.

There are two hands on her arm. Two left hands, both in a beige jumper? Oh. No. One hand. John. Beige John and his monochromatic friend.

“Is this an intervention? ‘Cause I’m really not in the mood,” she slurs. 

“This is your brother choosing the wrong pub. I could have told him, but he insisted...” John’s friend--what’s his name now, something prissy and public-school. She can’t dredge it up. Doesn’t want to.

“Not in the mood.”

“I’m here for a beer, Harry,” John sighs. “You’ve made your own choices. We won’t bother you.”

She watches as John collects a pint and a glass of water while his friend claims a table. Thinks about another drink as she sips the water that has mysteriously appeared in front of her. The two men are silent for a moment, a companionable quiet, she decides, then John’s friend speaks. He has her brother’s full attention--they are leaning in, intent--and as John responds the other man’s stern, dismissive face finally breaks into humor, almost human, almost friendly. 

Beige and monochrome in a dim corner of a dim pub, but the light around them refracts, shifts, intensifies. Nothing else--not the neon signs or the famous labels on the bottles or the faces of beautiful people--draws her eye. For a moment, she remembers Clara, at the beginning. For a moment, she does not think about another drink.

Instead, she pays her tab, makes her unsteady way across the room, and asks her brother to help her find a cab home.


End file.
